


Breathe me into life

by nofeartina



Category: SKAM (Norway)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Boy Squad, M/M, fallen angel AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-10
Updated: 2018-08-10
Packaged: 2019-06-25 08:01:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15636561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nofeartina/pseuds/nofeartina
Summary: Even knew that falling from heaven was irreversible.He’s not sure whether that had mattered to him when he decided to fall for Isak. He doesn’t really remember.But he’s about to learn that sometimes the act of falling isn’t enough.Sometimes you’re too late.





	Breathe me into life

**Author's Note:**

> A big thank you to Julia for organizing this fantastic event, it’s amazing how many great fics it’s birthed. :)
> 
> Massive thanks to the loveliest betas around, Immy and P, who’s both done wonders with this fic, and to colazitron for holding my hand and for doing word wars with me. <3
> 
> This is inspired by the perfect piece of art ([found here](https://nofeartina.tumblr.com/post/176834896854/breathe-me-into-life-by-nofeartina-nofeartina)) that Martha made. Check out her [insta](https://www.instagram.com/marthalucye/?hl=en) for more of her art.
> 
> This is very loosely inspired by the movie “City of Angels”. You don’t need to see it to be able to read but if you have I’m sure you’re gonna recognize some things. :)
> 
> Other than that, I hope you guys enjoy this labor of love. :)

He’s shivering.

He doesn’t know what’s happening, why his body is reacting like this.

He searches his muddled mind, tries to put it into words.

He’s warm, too warm.

No.

He’s cold.

That’s what this is.

He’s cold.

That’s why he’s shivering.

It’s raining.

Cold drops pelleting his skin, hurting him, making him colder.

His skin stings and he hisses as he starts to move. A thousand small needles pierce his skin, confusing his brain and his mind.

He blinks.

Tries to see, tries to remember what happened. It’s dark, but not dark enough that he can’t recognize where he is.

Isak.

He’s in front of Isak’s house.

Why is he here?

He blinks the water out of his eyes, tries to sort through the thousands of impressions bombarding him simultaneously. Making it hard for him to think.

And then he freezes, looks up at the house in front of him, surprised.

He fell.

That’s why he’s here.

He fell. For Isak.

For a moment he’s struck with fear and grief. His entire being, what he is, what he’s always been, all he's ever known, gone in the blink of an eye.

He can never go back.

He can never be what he was anymore.

But he chose this, made this decision on his own. He doesn’t quite remember why, but he knows he did. He can feel it in every cell of his body.

He lifts his hands, looks at them, turns them around as if he’s seeing them for the first time. He looks down, notices he’s naked, notices his feet bare against the pavement, one foot halfway into a puddle.

There’s nowhere for him to go but forward.

So he puts one foot in front of the other, walks up the stairs of the house, and rings the bell.

\--||--

This time he’s warm.

He’s sure that’s what this is. This feeling. It’s gentle, soothing. It must be warmth.

Or maybe it’s the fact that Isak is sitting behind him, carefully washing his back with a cloth, so, so softly, like he knows that Even’s never tried this before.

He'd been so surprised, had asked what Even was doing there. But Even couldn't answer, hadn't been able to.

He's not sure how to make words with his mouth when he's like this.

Isak looks older. Much older than Even remembers. Like more time passed while Even was wondering whether to fall or not than he realized.

Even had caught his reflection in the mirror and noticed that he looked younger than Isak now.

Isak just sits there patiently. Sits on the edge of the bathtub where Even is sitting in the water, head resting on his knees. Washes Even’s back, his shoulders.

And then Isak asks again, “What are you doing here?”

Even tries to find words this time. He remembers this language. Remembers that the words fit his mouth. Or used to at least.

“I fell,” he says slowly, relearning how his tongue needs to fold to speak.

“I can see that,” Isak says and wipes the washcloth over a bleeding bruise on Even's back.

It’s a distant ache, almost enough to settle him back into his skin.

He shakes his head.

“No, I fell,” he turns to look at Isak as he continues. “For you.”

Isak freezes, stops the soft movements of cloth against Even’s skin, looks at him with wide eyes.

But he doesn't look like Even expected him to. He’d expected what he recognizes as happy from the times he’s seen it; open faces, smiles sometimes wide enough for teeth to be showing, laughter. Instead, the frown on his forehead deepens and if Even was to put a word to the way Isak looks he would say it was anger. Or is it worry?

Isak gets up, turns his back to Even and runs his hand through his hair. He seems agitated but Even doesn't understand why.

“This is for you,” Even repeats, not quite sure that Isak heard him. That he understands what he's saying.

“Jesus Christ, Even. It's been ten years. You can't just show up and expect everything to still be the same.”

This time it's Even's turn to frown. He didn't realize that much time had passed.

“Time doesn't work like that for me,” he says in lieu of an explanation, doesn't quite know how to tell Isak that for him it's barely been minutes.

Isak turns to look at him, eyes on Even’s bruised chin, descending down further to his hands folded around his legs.

“I don't understand any of this,” Isak says after a very long time. Enough time that Even isn't feeling warm anymore.

“I fell for you,” Even repeats, like the third time will make Isak understand.

“So you say,” he sighs and squats by Even. His eyes are still gentle, but he looks lost in a way Even can't remember ever seeing on Isak before. “Let's get you out of the water before it turns cold.”

So Even gets up. Shivers through Isak drying him.

\--||--

He watches through the window as Isak leaves the next morning. He can't remember what kind of expectations he had before falling, but it doesn't feel like this is it.

Seeing Isak leave.

He doesn't like it.

He wants to follow, wants to stay by his side all day, like he's used to. Listening to Isak’s inner monologue, his scattered thoughts as he navigates the morning traffic, hear him wondering about whether he remembers what he learned last night, repeating the Krebs cycle over and over in his head until even Even knows it by heart.

Although there are so many things that feel out of reach, memories and thoughts he wishes he could hold on to, this is one of the things that stand out vividly to him.

Nobody has ever caught his interest like Isak.

He wishes he could go with him.

But everything is different now.

He has to stay. He'll never be able to follow Isak like that again.

Once again he's filled with emptiness, filled with longing for what was. Filled with this sense of dread, that maybe he fell for nothing.

Isak doesn't seem happy that he did.

He's pretty sure he at least expected him to be happy.

\--||--

It's strange having dinner with Isak and not hearing his thoughts on what he's eating. Even’s never tasted anything, but experiencing it through Isak always made him feel like he knew what eating was like.

He was wrong.

It's an explosion of tastes, of sensations. The way the food Isak's made for them is mixed in textures, how each bite is somehow new, soft and crunchy and sweet and salty, all at the same time.

It leaves Even speechless all over again.

Isak is looking at him, a small smile playing at his lips, eyes filled with the same kind of interest that Even remembers from before.

He pauses his eating even though he's so hungry, stomach seemingly unfillable, to smile back at Isak.

Isak holds his gaze, smile slowly widening and Even’s insides burst with happiness. His heart beats a frantic rhythm inside his chest.

Finally.

Finally, Isak seems to understand.

\--||--

But when Isak leaves Even in the living room to sleep on the couch there, when Isak goes to his bedroom to sleep there alone, Even wonders what he did wrong.

He just wants to be with Isak.

\--||--

He hates being alone.

Has never been alone in his entire existence, always surrounded by beings, by others like him.

And now everything is so quiet all the time.

Isak leaves every day to go to work. Even doesn't quite understand why he needs to leave, why he can’t stay with him, but he pretends he does.

He's spent eons observing humans, listening to their thoughts.

But he never realized how many things you had to do as a human.

It's been a week.

Even speaks now, and listens with interest to everything Isak has to say.

Although Isak never says much.

Even desperately wishes he knew what was going on inside Isak. Knew what was holding him back.

Even stands in front of the big mirror in the hall. Has taken Isak's shirt off, has finally worked up the courage to see.

He takes a deep breath, looks within and gives in to the tingling desire to set them free.

He feels them moving behind him, feels how his back shifts and accommodates. But where he'd normally feel the roar, the sense of freedom, there's only loss.

Something’s wrong.

He reluctantly opens his eyes. What he sees there has him screaming in horror, has him backing away from his own mirror image.

It can't be.

It can't be.

The blood in his ears pulses loudly, his mouth tastes like iron, and his heart is beating faster and faster in his chest.

It's too much. This is too much.

He can't remember, and he doesn't understand. Did he know? Did he know this would happen if he fell?

Did he choose Isak regardless of this?

He doesn't understand.

He can't figure out how he could ever think that living like this could be worth it.

It doesn't feel like it is anymore.

-||-

“You look sad recently,” Isak says a few days later.

Even doesn't recognize this feeling rising in him, washing over him, filling him up until it feels like all he sees is red.

“You mean, you actually see me?”

He doesn't want to feel like this, doesn't want to feel like he might be eaten up from the inside if he doesn't let some of the red out.

Isak looks taken aback, puts down the spoon he was holding and leans back in his chair.

Swallows hard.

“What do you want from me Even?” Isak asks, slowly, hesitantly, and Even can't stand it.

Can't stand how Isak is skirting around him, always so careful.

Even doesn't want careful, he wants Isak to be like he used to be.

“I'm not sure anymore,” he answers through his teeth. He gets up, lets his feet carry him out of the room, out of the house, away from Isak and all that pain he lives in there.

\--||--

He doesn't know how long he sits there.

On that pier, drawn to the ocean like he’s always been. The sun is setting, light changing, and he closes his eyes and tries to pretend that he can hear it. That this isn’t another one of those things forever lost to him.

He tilts his head, soaks up the last of the rays of sun, feels how it warms his skin even though the temperature is slowly dropping. He remembers vividly how it felt to hear the sun setting, how it reverberated in his entire body, invigorated him, made him feel alive even though he wasn’t. Not really.

He suspects that those who were closest to him are somewhere near him, maybe even surrounding him, but he can’t feel them, can’t see them. Will never be able to again until the day they come to collect him, when it’s his time.

It fills him with sadness all over again, makes him feel heavy with regret and he never knew it would be like this. Never expected to feel this alone.

His limbs feel heavy and he’s stuck. Wants to be somewhere else, somewhere that he’s not reminded of how much he let go of, of how different everything is now, but he can’t seem to move.

He doesn’t know where to go.

He opens his eyes as the sun touches the ocean. Everything is bathed in yellow and gold and red and it’s so beautiful it almost hurts.

But it’s not what it used to be.

He sheds the first tear since he fell at that realization.

He’s surprised by it, wipes it off quickly, looks at his wet fingers curiously.

Why is everything so different?

It pains him that he doesn’t remember whether he knew just how much he was giving up.

He must’ve been so sure that Isak was worth it. Was worth letting go of _everything_ for.

He’s not so sure now.

\--||--

He’s freezing when he returns.

It takes him some time to figure out how to get back, to retrace his steps, still uncertain about how streets and houses work.

He’s barely made it to the front door of Isak’s small house before Isak tears the door open, making Even take a step back in surprise. Isak pulls him in, wraps his strong arms around him and holds him tight.

Even just stands there, frozen to the spot. His mind is a mess of emotions and he can’t figure out what this means, why Isak is doing this.

“Where have you been?” Isak whispers against Even’s cheek, worry clear in his voice, so clear that even Even recognizes that emotion.

He doesn’t answer, doesn’t know what to say, how to explain.

“I didn’t know how to find you,” Isak continues, without waiting for Even’s response. He pulls back, arms on Even’s, eyes flying over him. “You’re shivering.”

And the second Isak mentions it, he realizes that he is.

He’s so, so cold, cold to the bone.

He lets Isak pull him inside, lets Isak wrap him in a blanket, sit him down on the couch. And moments later he has a steaming cup of tea in front of him on the table.

Even just stares at it. Watches the steam rise from it, teeth clattering, body shaking, and he feels so disconnected.

Isak sits down on the couch, a good distance from him. Far enough away that Even turns his head to look at all that space between them instead.

He can’t remember Isak ever wanting to sit so far from him before.

“Why did you leave like that?” Isak asks with a soft voice like he’s scared that he’ll make Even leave again.

He won’t.

Even has nowhere to go.

“I’m sorry if it’s something I’ve done.”

Even’s eyes slowly turn from that space in between them to look at Isak.

And it hits Even; Isak doesn’t know, he doesn’t realize.

He puts out his palms, the blanket drops from his shoulders and pools at his waist, but he hardly notices it.

“I fell for you.”

He knows he’s said this many times now, over and over again, but he needs Isak to _hear_ it.

“I know,” Isak sighs, resigned. Leans back into the couch like he’s close to giving up.

Even shakes his head.

“I _fell_ for you. I gave up everything for you, _everything_! And you don’t seem to care.”

Isak frowns, leans forward again, closer to Even. He shakes his head. Opens his mouth like he’s about to say something, but before he can Even continues.

“I _fell_ for you. And now I’m not sure if I made a mistake.”

He’s not looking at Isak as he says this.

He can’t see his face.

He knows he’s flushing himself, knows that his body is shaking now for different reasons.

Feels how hard his heart is beating, how tight his skin is.

He can’t breathe, can’t believe that he managed to tell Isak this.

Isak gasps, moves closer to Even.

“I don't understand.” Isak's eyes are wide, his arms out. “You keep saying that as if it should mean something to me, but it doesn't. I don't… I don't understand.”

”You know I’m not like you,” Even breathes, after long silent seconds.

And Isak shrugs, flushes a bit and rubs his hand over his neck like he’s embarrassed to say what he’s about to say.

“I know you… are different in some ways. I just always figured you didn’t want to tell me what it was.”

“What it was?” Even asks confused, frowning, feeling like they’re speaking in two different languages.

“Yeah, your….” He starts, gestures at Even’s head, at him, and Even is growing frustrated with this lack of words.

He huffs, annoyed, and it seems to be what makes Isak finally talk.

“Your diagnosis.”

Even’s breath hitches. Something tickles in the back of his mind, he recognizes that word, it spins in his head, makes him dizzy and angry.

“My diagnosis? You think I’m mentally ill? You think I’m _crazy_?”

Isak pulls back from him, from his anger, eyes wide, body language changing to placate Even but instead it’s making him even angrier.

“I’ve lived an eternity, have spent every waking moment breathing order and peace into this chaos of existence. I’ve told you this, told you what I was, but you thought I was sick?”

Even doesn’t realize that he’s getting off the couch until he’s standing and Isak stands up next to him. His hands are out, and when he talks it’s slow and clear.

“There’s no such thing, Even. The things you talk about don’t exist.”

“Of course they do. I exist,” Even answers, but he’s feeling raw and miserable. Can’t believe he gave it all up for this.

For someone who doesn’t believe him.

The silence stretches between them, Isak’s mouth opening and closing like he’s trying to think of something to say that won’t make Even angrier.

Even’s breathing hard. He feels like a volcano about to burst, and there’s nothing for him to do about it.

There’s nowhere to go.

No one else to help him.

He’s alone.

He’s never been alone before.

But looking at Isak, seeing the despair in his eyes, this belief that Even can be categorized as something that he understands when the truth is so much more, it breaks him.

It makes him deflate, makes that overwhelming feeling seep through the pores of his skin, vacate him slowly, and leave nothing but emptiness behind.

He sits down heavily on the couch, sits there for long silent seconds. He lies on his side, folds his legs up under him until he can’t become any smaller, puts the blanket over his head, covers and hides from Isak’s watchful eyes. Can’t stand not having somewhere else to go but this.

After eons of plenty, he’s down to this.

He has nothing.

He is nothing.

The relief when Isak lets him be is almost palpable. He listens to Isak leaving the living room, listens to his nightly routines. Hears him pause in the doorway for a few long seconds before he sighs and goes to his bedroom.

Even is a mess of emotions and thoughts that he can’t figure out, that he doesn’t have the capability of identifying yet.

It leaves him exhausted, though, and he falls asleep much easier than he expected to.

\--||--

“Okay,” Isak says the next morning, looking at Even buttering a piece of bread, every ounce of concentrations focused on that small task. He’s seen people do it plenty of times but never quite knew how difficult such a small task could be. “I’m gonna let you show me today. Show me the places that you wanted to show me the last time.”

Even pauses with the knife hovering over the bread before he starts up again.

“You want me to convince you.”

“No,” Isak answers quickly, voice steady and sincere. Even finally looks at him as he continues. “I just want to see.”

And Even feels something bloom in his chest, like a physical thing, like a thousand butterflies have been set free all at once, and he thinks that this must be hope.

He forces them down, has to make them disappear.

He can’t hope.

Not anymore.

“Okay.”

He takes a bite of the bread and ignores the dry corner without butter.

It doesn’t really matter anyway.

\--||--

“What is this?” Isak asks, curious and open, and he stands there with his long, lean body, arms relaxed by his sides, looking like he genuinely wants to know.

“This is where I saw you for the first time,” Even says, looking out onto the traffic.

“Here?”

Even remembers it like it just happened.

Isak had fascinated him from the start.

When he first noticed him, as a young boy, standing on the sidewalk, too close to a man Even was about to collect.

Even's not supposed to notice them. They're insignificant, small specks of dust in the movement of time.

But seeing Isak made time slow down for him.

He'd heard stories of it happening to others, heard the cautionary tales. How it led to their downfall. And he'd never considered that he might experience it.

But time almost stopped the second his eyes met Isak’s over the man's shoulders. And he didn't know how it was possible. But he felt seen.

He'd never been seen before. Not while they were alive.

He almost missed the man stepping into the street mere seconds before the light turning green, getting hit by a truck with too much traction that didn’t have enough time to stop.

He collected his soul and tried to forget about the young boy with the green eyes.

He never succeeded.

“I can’t remember.” Isak looks away from the road and Even feels his gaze resting heavily on him.

Even shrugs.

“I don’t expect you to. You were a child.”

He doesn’t look at Isak to see how he reacts. Can’t bear to see him roll his eyes or grow tense.

But Isak’s voice doesn’t waver as he says. “Okay. What’s next?”

\--||--

When they enter Even takes a deep breath, closes his eyes and feels calm immediately.

“Here?” Isak asks, but it’s without judgment, without pause. Just him asking.

Even nods.

“Here.”

He stills next to one of the big tanks, looks into the blue water and doesn’t speak until he feels Isak standing next to him.

“People’s minds are so calm here. It’s incredible to listen to,” he whispers, making sure nobody but Isak will hear him.

“I can imagine,” Isak replies and his voice sounds full of wonder as he stares at the life swimming by.

“Do you miss it?” he asks.

Even takes a long time to reply, lets his eyes dance over the view in the meantime.

“All the time.”

\--||--

They make it to the beach just in time for sunset. Even plants his feet in the sand and looks at Isak with a happy smile.

“There’s music in the sunset,” he says and closes his eyes and once again tries to recall the feeling he used to get every night.

“Music?” Isak repeats.

But when Even looks at him, as he tries to find the words to explain what exactly it was he heard, Isak has his eyes closed and face tilted into the sun.

“It must’ve been beautiful,” he whispers.

Even tries to blink away his tears, gives up and lets them fall and fall and fall, slowly dripping down on the fabric of his shirt.

“It was.”

Isak opens his eyes, looks right at him, eyes full of compassion and sincerity. He reaches for Even’s hand.

And for the first time since Even fell, Isak touches him because he seems to want to.

They stand there like that, hand in hand, watching the sunset, and it’s almost as beautiful as it used to be.

\--||--

Darkness cloaks them. It’s just cloudy enough to make it hard to see as they sit next to each other on the sand, facing the water.

It makes Even say what he’s been meaning to say for a while now.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when she died.”

The sharp intake of breath tells Even that Isak is surprised by this.

“You remember?” he asks, voice shaking a bit and there’s so much that Even regrets but this more than anything.

He nods, belatedly remembers that Isak can’t see him. “It’s one of the things I _do_ remember.”

Isak stills beside him, the calmness from before long gone with Even’s words.

He knew this. He expected this.

That’s why it’s taken him so long to utter them.

“I begged you to stay,” Isak says through clenched teeth.

Even nods. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“I needed you so badly. And you just disappeared.”

He closes his eyes. Isak’s anger is righteous, he should be angry, should do a lot worse than just spitting truths at him.

“I didn’t mean to. I know it’s not an excuse, but I honestly didn’t know it would take me that long to return to you.”

Isak breathes loudly beside him, anger rolling off him and Even sits there and takes it.

He deserves it.

He should’ve been faster. He keeps coming back to that. If this was what he wanted, if Isak was what he wanted, he should’ve done it fast enough to have been there for him when he needed him.

The way he was. Not this confused, watered-down version of him 10 years later. 10 years too late.

He wants to say _I’m here now_ but he’s not sure how much comfort that would even give Isak at this point.

“I understand why you don’t want me here. It took me some time, but I understand. I would leave but I—” He clears his throat, swallows away the dryness there. Tries to make room for the truths he doesn’t want to say but Isak deserves to hear. “I have nowhere else to go.”

His voice is but a whisper, barely audible, but it makes Isak turn to him.

“I don’t want you to leave.”

Even wishes he could see Isak’s face, desperately wants to know what his eyes are doing, how his mouth is twisting.

“No?” His voice breaks, the pain seeping through, but his heart swells when he feels Isak take his hand, squeeze it hard and his voice is sure and strong and steady as he replies.

“No.”

\--||--

It’s easier to open up to Isak after this.

He still doesn’t know if Isak gets it, but he tries to at least. And Even stops holding back.

He wants him to see, to know everything about him.

They’re sitting opposite each other eating pears and Even loves the way the juice bursts with flavors in his mouth, how the texture of the fruit feels.

“I remember you once asking me what it was like when I ate it, how it tasted,” Isak says breaking the comfortable silence. He’s frowning, eyebrows pulled together as he’s staring at the fruit, like he’s retrieving some long-lost memory.

Even swallows.

“I remember you gave me a long, detailed answer.”

“Yeah,” Isak smiles and it makes something stir inside Even. “How’s my explanation holding up?”

And he’s playful and happy and Even recognizes this Isak. Has missed him so much. That smile. Those bright eyes. And the way he looks at Even, the way he sees him.

It’s beginning to make sense now.

“I liked your explanation better,” Even answers and loves how that makes Isak a little bit shy, a little bit coy, how he looks down at his own pear before he glances up at Even through his eyelashes.

And oh yeah. Even remembers that look as well.

Only this time he feels it as heat through his spine, electricity in his fingertips, small shivers over his skin.

He’s never felt this much before, and it’s addictive. Isak’s addictive.

Yeah, it’s all starting to come back to him.

\--||--

“Are you hungry?” Isak asks and smiles as Even pauses to feel whether he is.

He’s not really, but the smile on Isak’s face could make him agree to anything so he nods and watches it bloom even further on his face, transform him into the Isak he recognizes, the Isak he kept noticing. Kept coming back to.

He follows him into the kitchen, sits on the counter and watches as Isak pulls ingredients from the fridge.

He could watch Isak do this all day. He’s so sure of himself, knows just what to do with the food, hands steady as he’s chopping onions and everything else that he’s doing. And Even doesn’t even notice him watching until he pauses, too enraptured in watching Isak work, and when he looks up at Isak his face is soft and tender. His eyes bright in a way that takes Even’s breath away.

The moment stretches between them, and Even lets it. Lets Isak look at him, hopes he finds what he’s looking for.

He’s not sure how many seconds tick by before he finally breaks the silence.

“Show me.”

And Isak does.

\--||--

Even’s kind of nervous. His entire body feels jittery, hands finding his pockets over and over again, before they scratch over his chin and he wonders if the slight feel of stubble there is supposed to calm him down, if maybe that’s why he keeps doing it.

He’s not sure it’s working.

Isak is one step ahead of him, greets the group before him, intercepts them before they reach Even but Even sees how they throw him side-long glances, notice him but are clearly too polite to mention him before Isak is ready.

After saying hello to them all he takes a step back, opens the circle to include Even and says: “And this. This is Even.”

Even distantly wonders just what these guys know. What Isak told them back when Even was a choice he could make. He’s not sure whether he expects some kind of recognition on their faces but he’s disappointed anyway when the first two faces that greets him happily, openly, clearly don’t show an inkling of it.

“This is Magnus and this is Mahdi,” Isak says as Even shakes their hands.

He doesn’t fight the massive smile that stretches over his face, though it feels foreign there, like someone plastered it on him, forced his muscles to move that far.

“And this is Jonas.”

He takes Jonas hand. But as soon as their eyes meet, it’s clear that Jonas knows who he is. Recognizes him.

The handshake is a bit harder than the other two but Even keeps up the eye contact, tries to show Jonas that he’s never leaving again, he’s never going to make Isak hurt. Not if Isak doesn’t want him to.

He’s never leaving Isak alone like that again.

And Jonas must see something there, must sense his determination, because his eyes soften and his mouth curls into a smile.

“Nice to finally meet you,” he says and even his voice is kind.

As Even takes his second sip of the beer Isak bought for him he feels his nerves calm and his heart rate slowly settle.

And he lets himself get sucked into the warmth of being part of a group. Eager and excited to finally be a part of what he’s observed so many times.

He remembers the hole in his chest, the feeling of something missing whenever he watched groups like the one he’s a part of now.

And for a short while, he forgets that he feels alone.

\--||--

“I miss her,” Isak says one day out of the blue. He’s looking out of the window, into his garden, eyes tracking one of the birds in the tree closest to the window.

Even swallows. Looks away from Isak, finds the bird as well.

“Yeah. She was really worried about leaving you.”

Even’s not sure what kind of reaction he expected from Isak but this is not it. This hesitant, angry way Isak says “Even!”, like it’s a warning. How his eyes are almost black and his body starts to shake.

But Even doesn’t heed the warning. He wants to tell Isak this.

“She told us about you when she was collected. She told us to take care of you, that you wouldn’t understand.”

Isak turns to him, grabs his arm tightly, looks at him pleadingly.

“Even. Don’t… please.”

Even doesn’t really understand why Isak doesn’t want to hear this. So he presses on.

“But most of all she was relieved. Happy that it was over.”

And as soon as the words leave his lips the first tears overflow and fall down Isak’s cheeks heavily, creating tracks for the next ones to run along.

Isak looks so lost. Eyes big, face stretched in disbelief.

“Even…” he whispers, this time another kind of plea, the kind that makes Even’s heart break. Makes Even feel what he’s seen other people feel countless times.

“I’m so sorry, Isak. You were all she talked about. She loved you so much.”

The way Isak falls into his arms, the way it feels to hold him against his chest is a feeling that Even can’t even find the words to explain.

It’s like coming home all over again.

“You… were there?” Isak asks, slowly, voice so low and shaky that Even more feels the words against the skin of his neck than hears them.

“I wasn’t the one to collect her. But I was there.” He tightens his arms around Isak. “She was happy. I promise you it was what she wanted.”

His shirt slowly soaks with tears, but he doesn’t care.

He holds Isak through it, does what he was supposed to do in the first place.

Whispers _she loved you_ over and over again until it feels like Isak can’t bear to listen to it anymore.

And it feels so right to be able to give Isak what he needs.

It feels right.

\--||--

If he’d known that this was what Isak needed to hear he would have told him immediately that first night when Isak opened the door.

It’s clear that Isak looks at him differently now.

His gaze lingers, his hands find excuses to touch Even, he smiles so much more.

He even seems reluctant to leave in the morning.

Even loves it.

Everything makes sense now.

All those touches burn his skin, makes lava flow in his veins, makes his body jittery and excited and like he’s waiting for something. Like he’s being pushed towards a breaking point, closer and closer to a line he doesn’t know or understand.

But he likes it. Likes the way Isak’s hands feel on him. Likes how Isak touches him on his own volition like he can’t help it.

It’s addicting.

He watches Isak leave in the morning, watches him turn back just before he disappears around the corner when Even won’t be able to see him anymore. And now he waves at Even, throws him a big happy smile.

And it doesn’t quite feel like he’s leaving Even behind anymore.

Even isn’t waiting.

Isn’t alone.

For the first time since he fell it feels like Isak is right there with him.

Maybe he did make the right decision by falling.

\--||--

There’s an empty bottle of red wine on the table between them, another half-full next to it. Both their glasses are drained and as Isak fills them up again, like he’s done many times this night, he glances at Even through his eyelashes, makes Even smile and his chest explode with warmth.

Makes his stomach fill with something he can’t name.

He’s letting Isak ask him what he wants. Wants to show him that there’s nothing he can’t tell him.

“Have you ever collected anyone famous?” Isak asks, making Even frown. But never very deeply. Not when Isak’s eyes are bright and he’s looking at Even with so much mirth that Even could drown in it.

He’s not quite sure what he wants Even to tell him. He never did have a sense of that stuff.

Isak elaborates, “Kings and queens?”

“Oh yes,” Even nods and takes a sip of the wine Isak is finally done pouring.

He quite likes it, he’s decided.

Isak laughs delighted and leans back in his chair.

“Movie stars?”

Even nods again, happy to be the one who makes Isak laugh like that.

There’s a pause. Isak looks at him intently, eyes boring into his and it’s almost possible for Even to see the way his brain is working behind his eyes.

“Do you have wings?” he asks, smiling and happy and chuckling, doesn’t have a clue that he’s asking one of the things that could pull Even apart.

He clears his throat and looks down into his glass.

“I used to,” he whispers, can’t meet Isak’s eyes, feels the aborted tingle of what used to be there on his back.

What’s left isn’t something he wants to be reminded of.

Isak seems to sense the change of mood because he gets quiet too and the next question he asks is in a low voice.

“They’re gone?”

Even sighs and shakes his head. He knows he sounds defeated when he answers, “Something’s left.”

Isak’s hand moves closer to his on the table until his forefinger grazes his hand. And then it slowly moves further along, centimeter by centimeter, finger by finger, until Isak’s hand is covering Even’s.

“Show me?”

It’s a whisper. It’s a breath.

Even could say no.

He wants to.

But Isak looks at him soft and tender and so full of something that could be love.

He’s asking Even to trust him.

So Even does.

\--||--

He lets the tingle overtake him, closes his eyes to the feeling of freedom, of stretching.

Clenches them when the result feels like anything but.

Isak’s stuttered breath makes him open them again.

Isak is looking at him in awe.

Even stands there, letting Isak see although he desperately wants to hide.

This was not the way he wanted Isak to see his wings. He wanted to unfold them in all their glory, impress him with their magnificence.

“I know,” he whispers, looks away from Isak, away from his prying eyes. Resists the urge to pull the tingle back. “They’re hideous.”

He almost adds _now_ but in the end, he doesn’t.

Isak takes a step towards him, so close, so, so close that Even almost can’t breathe because Isak takes up everything, is everything.

He looks back up at Isak when his hand touches his arm gently, looks up and sees Isak’s eyes hasn’t changed from before.

He’s so warm, so gentle. Like he knows that that is what Even needs right now. Even feels naked and raw and Isak is doing everything he can to make him less vulnerable.

He’s not looking at them.

He’s looking at Even.

“They’re beautiful,” he says.

It’s almost enough to make Even believe it. The way the words sound as they leave his lovely lips.

It is enough to make his tears fall.

And it’s not violent, not like when Isak cried in his arms. It’s a soft trickle, an overflow of emotions that takes up so much space inside Even that there are no other places for them to go.

Isak’s still looking at Even as he wipes a tear off his cheek with his thumb. Gently, carefully. Like Even is something to treat cautiously.

Even’s never been worth that before.

“Can I touch?” he asks.

And Even is powerless against his sincerity.

So he nods.

Isak’s hand slide slowly up his arm, over his shoulder, graces his neck and makes goosebumps break out all over the skin, and his hand lingers there like he understands how big of a deal this is.

The first touch takes Even by surprise.

His breath hitches, his entire body tenses, ready for pain, ready for discomfort from the mangled remains of what used to be his pride and joy.

But Isak’s fingers sliding down the length of one of his last remaining feathers feels anything but.

It’s a rush of emotion.

It’s pleasure, so much that it makes his wings slowly start to feel like a part of him again.

He’s not sure how long they stand there like that.

But he knows when Isak’s fingers slowly slide off the last feather on the other wing, when his hand settles back on Even’s waist again, Even’s breathing is a bit harder. But it’s not from nerves.

His body is vibrating, senses on high alert, nerves burning under his skin asking for more and more and _more_. He’s covered in goosebumps and he makes a pleading sound deep in his chest that makes Isak lean in and wrap his arms around him.

“Thank you for showing me,” Isak whispers against the skin of Even’s throat.

And Even just wants more but doesn’t know how to ask for it.

\--||--

He wakes up disoriented, too warm, head pounding, and body filled with lead.

He’s not on the couch.

The light here is wrong, the duvet that covers him isn’t his and he’s lying on something much softer and more comfortable than that ragged couch.

When he opens his eyes the first thing he sees is Isak.

Isak who’s still sleeping, lying on his side turned towards Even.

He looks so young, so carefree lying here like that.

And Even might not remember everything that made him fall, but he understands.

Understands this need for closer, for more.

He doesn’t want to be anywhere else, doesn’t want to be alone anymore.

He wants to be with Isak, wants to wake up like this every day for the rest of his life.

He wants everything that is Isak. Everything that Isak is.

He scoots in a bit closer, puts his forehead gently against Isak’s, wraps his hand around his. Closes his eyes and falls back asleep.

\--||--

The next time he opens his eyes he’s looking right into Isak’s.

They’re lying so close, sharing warmth and breath and Even feels content in a way he never even knew it was possible to be.

No matter how many times they warned them about the fall they never told them what they were missing out on.

How it feels to hold the hand of the person you love, how it feels to see the softness in their eyes when they look at you.

And that’s the first time he lets himself believe it.

There’s no other explanation for how Isak’s eyes light up when they see him looking back.

Isak loves him.

Isak loves him too.

Even smiles.

Lets the happiness bubbling inside of him spill into the space between them as he starts to laugh, puts his hand on Isak’s cheek to caress it gently with his thumb.

Isak doesn’t say _I love you_ , not yet, although Even imagines that he will soon from the way he smiles back at him.

It’s easy to just close the small space between them, lean in and finally put his lips against Isak’s.

And it’s like breathing, like flying, like coming home.

Kissing Isak is everything he ever imagined it to be. And even more.

Isak makes these sounds, small sighs and gasps that makes Even’s toes curl and parts of him he never considered before come alive.

He wants more, he just wants it all.

Everything.

He’s out of breath when they finally pull apart. Can barely look away from Isak’s inviting lips, watches as they curl into a smile. His own lips are tingling, and he just wants to dive back in, do it again, do it more.

“Thank you for falling for me,” Isak whispers and it’s enough to make Even’s eyes burn.

He presses his body against Isak, covers him in gratitude, kisses his beautiful lips, and he can’t imagine ever wanting anything but this.

This is exactly how he always hoped love would feel like.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed this, even though it’s kinda different from what I normally write. Which is also why I’m a bit nervous about posting this, so if you did enjoy it, I will greatly appreciate you leaving a kudos and/or a comment to let me know what you think. <3
> 
> The post for this fic is here and I’m [nofeartina](https://nofeartina.tumblr.com/) on tumblr, come play. :)


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